


i want to see you (be brave)

by orphan_account



Series: magical dolls are weird [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dolls, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:17:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a scene that suited a B-rated action movie more than Derek’s life, the way Dalek was stalking closer to Derek wielding a pocketknife threateningly, with a distracting plaid cape billowing behind him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i want to see you (be brave)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "Brave" by Sara Bareilles. This is a long-awaited sequel to [what is going on with my life](http://archiveofourown.org/works/556537), and it won't make any sense at all without reading that one first. This fic is probably less funny that the prequel. Here's a reminder for the dolls: Dalek (from DOLL-derEK) looks like Derek, and Jules (JUnior stiLES) looks like Stiles. They're magic'd to be animated. (I realized how annoying it might be that Dalek's name is so similar to Derek's. I hope I didn't make any mistakes with their names in the fic.)

“Stupid Derek. Who does he think he is, telling me I’m his. I’m not some possession.” Stiles huffed. He ignored the blush he could feel warming his cheeks. “Like hell are Scott and I going to join his pack.” Stiles spun in a circle on his chair. 

Spotting Dalek on the floor, Stiles asked, “And what about you, huh? I know I said I made Jules to annoy Derek, but now that Jules is gone, you seem like an awfully lonely doll, not unlike our resident werewolf alpha.” Stiles frowned at Dalek, who was glancing back and forth between Stiles and the window. “Also, what were you even doing with Jules? You guys are freaking dolls! Dolls don’t hump other dolls. You guys don’t even have any genitals.” 

Dalek shrugged off the question and continued staring longingly at the window, where Derek had escaped, with a stolen Jules in tow. 

Stiles couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the doll. Dalek had his only fellow doll companion taken from him. But maybe Dalek would cheer up if Stiles crafted him a pack—a gang of animate dolls to keep him company. Stiles coughed to stifle laughter at the thought. 

“But I don’t have enough materials yet.” Stiles mused aloud. He eyed the scraps of felt and cloth he still had left and plucked up a red plaid scrap that he had cut to make Jules’ clothing. Then he draped it over Dalek’s shoulders and said, “There. You can pretend that Jules is still here with you.” 

Even though it wasn’t much of a replacement or consolation, Dalek seemed oddly pleased with the gift. With his stubby doll hands, he tugged it closer around himself. 

The image was so cute that Stiles decided to help Dalek tie it around his body. When he finished, Stiles poked Dalek in the tummy, who shook like he was giggling. 

“Hah. You’re like the Pillsbury doughboy.” Stiles commented, poking him again. Dalek responded by falling backwards and trying to protect his stomach from Stiles’ prodding finger. 

Then he suddenly jumped up and away. Stiles watched, confused, as Dalek grabbed Stiles’ pocketknife lying around and tucked it into his clothes. “Hey, what are you doing with that?” But since Stiles didn’t give Dalek enough magic to talk, Dalek couldn’t reply verbally. 

Dalek stared at Stiles for a long, dramatic second before releasing one of the blades, so its sharp end jutted out. Then Dalek held the knife with both hands, waving it around at an invisible enemy. 

“Are you… using a pocketknife as a sword?” 

Dalek nodded. 

“But why?” Stiles asked. 

Dalek pointed in the direction of the window. 

“You want to go out there? But it’s not safe for you, and what reason do you have—wait, dumb question. You want to go look for Jules, don’t you?” Stiles leaned down closer to stare at Dalek. 

Dalek nodded solemnly. After a final wave with his “sword,” he tucked the sharp end back into the knife. He waddled towards the window. 

“Wait, Dalek. Stop. Derek doesn’t like you. He’s more likely going to skewer you with one of his claws than give Jules back.” 

Dalek climbed onto the windowsill. He looked at Stiles. 

“You’re not even going to listen, are you?” Stiles didn’t move to stop him, as Dalek waved farewell and jumped out of Stiles’ window. “You’re just like Derek,” Stiles murmured to himself, stepping up to the window and looking down.

There was already no sign of Dalek.

* * *

Derek initially had a hand pressed against Jules’ back when he was walking around his loft, because he didn’t want Jules to fall off. But after a while of Jules clinging to Derek’s neck without relaxing his grip, Derek figured that Jules probably wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. 

Even though Derek took Jules on his own accord, Derek didn’t actually have any idea what to do with Jules. He had stopped playing with toys a long time ago. 

Then again, Jules wasn’t your average doll. He was a magical, animated doll made by Stiles. He certainly seemed to have his own personality, if the way he insistently petted Derek’s face was any indication. Jules seemed fine with doing whatever he was doing right where he was, on Derek’s shoulder. 

Suddenly, Derek sensed movement from the loft’s opened door, but he couldn’t look at the cause right away. Jules was surprisingly letting go of Derek’s neck, almost falling off Derek’s shoulder in the process, so Derek had to catch him. When he finally looked at what was walking through his door, Derek couldn’t decide whether or not to be relieved that Jules was in his hands. He wanted to put his forehead on his hand. 

It was a scene that suited a B-rated action movie more than Derek’s life, the way Dalek was stalking closer to Derek wielding a _pocketknife_ threateningly, with a distracting plaid cape billowing behind him. It’d definitely make Stiles crack up. 

Jules took advantage of Derek being busy thinking about Stiles’ laughing face to jump down from his hands. He immediately ran to Dalek after he landed. When Dalek saw that Jules was coming toward him, he pointed the blade in a different direction and released a hand to hug Jules. 

Derek focused on the situation and swiped the pocketknife when Dalek was suitably distracted by Jules. He was going to grab Dalek to toss him out, except Jules was holding Dalek with one arm. 

Then Jules dragged Dalek over to Derek and wrapped his other arm around Derek’s ankle, looking immensely pleased with himself to have Derek and Dalek in both of his arms. 

“You look like Stiles when he has a slice of pizza in each hand and one in his mouth.” Derek told Jules, staring Dalek down all the while. “Don’t look so proud of yourself.” 

Meanwhile, Dalek glowered at Derek, annoyed that he still had to share Jules, even after he went looking for Jules. 

Derek said to Dalek, “You look like an idiot.”

* * *

Stiles barely entered the local Michaels to get some more materials for the dolls when Derek called him. He veered off to a random empty aisle, so no one could overhear his conversation and opened with a “Hey, did Dalek find you already? That was fast. Maybe he has super-doll senses, like he’s a weredoll.” 

“Come get him now before I shred him into pieces.” Derek sounded annoyed. 

“But that’d make Jules sad, and you happen to like Jules.” For whatever reason, Stiles wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to examine. “Anyway, just wait a bit. I’m busy buying—“ 

Derek hung up. 

“—stuff for Dalek’s pack.” Stiles sighed. He stared longingly at the materials on the walls—there was a piece that would make a suitable scarf for an Isaac doll—and looked at the long line of women buying random arts and crafts. 

Stiles sighed again and gave up the shopping as a lost cause. At least Michaels was closer to Derek’s loft than Stiles’ house was. The drive wouldn’t take too long, so hopefully Derek wouldn’t have maimed Dalek by the time he got there.

Stiles ran through Derek’s front door so fast that he almost tripped over Derek from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor. Stiles skidded to a stop behind Derek and just stared. 

Derek was glaring at Dalek, with Jules sitting happily in between them, keeping peace. They all looked up at Stiles' entrance, and Stiles was a little creeped out by how their actions were in unison. He decided not to let it bother him.  

Instead, Stiles grinned. “Way to go, Jules. Thanks for stopping Derek from slaughtering his doll mini-me.” Stiles was sure that if Jules didn’t have the limited facial mobility of a doll, he would be grinning cheekily back at Stiles. 

Jules looked back and forth between Derek and Stiles. Then, he tapped the floor in front of him and looked imploringly at Stiles. 

“What?” Stiles asked, confused. “That’s the floor, yeah.”

Jules shook his head and hit the floor harder. 

Derek said. “I think he’s telling you to sit down.” 

Jules nodded enthusiastically. 

Stiles gave Derek a weird look as he complied. “You understand Jules’ gestures?” 

Derek shrugged and said, “Don’t you understand the doll version of me?” He watched Jules try to tug Stiles to sit a bit closer to Derek. 

Stiles halfheartedly resisted Jules’ hands before scooting closer to Derek. “Well yeah, but Dalek is a very cool dude. Right, little man?” 

Dalek nodded. 

“Is that why you gave him a pocketknife?” Derek asked without any real heat to his words. 

“I figured that with your superior werewolf skills and senses that you wouldn’t even give him the chance to hurt you.” Stiles let Jules pull his hand over Derek’s knee. For some reason, it wasn’t half as nerve-wracking as he had imagined touching Derek would be. His hand twitched, pressing a little harder onto Derek for a second. 

“I swiped it from him while he was distracted by Jules.” Derek admitted. He placed his large palm over Stiles’ hand with little prompting from Jules. 

The heat from Derek’s palm made Stiles’ hand tingle from where they touched. Stiles didn’t think of anything when he turned his hand over, so his palm was touching Derek’s. He squeezed once and felt Derek let out a soft breath. 

They didn’t say anything about it. They didn’t have to. 

Stiles wanted to drop his head onto Derek's shoulder, but that felt like a little more touching that he was really ready for. Maybe he'll do that next time. Stiles merely watched Jules push Dalek into sitting down with his back to one of Stiles’ legs. Jules did the same on Derek’s legs and leaned forward to hold Dalek’s hand. 

“Are the dolls trying to match-make us?” 

“Do you really have to ask?” 

Jules leaned back and somehow had a very confident and accomplished air about him, directing his little doll smile at Stiles and Derek.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's a bit different from the prequel, but it's been a year and I've long since lost the characters' voices in my head. But I hope it's okay! (It feels like it might become a series of a slow-building romance between Derek and Stiles, orchestrated by the dolls. Maybe the next part of the fic will feature a kiss, though hopefully it wouldn't take nearly a year in between writing for a short piece like this.)
> 
> For those waiting for the last part of "some people like to talk (but i'm into doing)," I apologize for the delay. Life is kicking my butt right now.
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://singingharlot.tumblr.com/)


End file.
